


Five, Three, Two

by completelyboggled



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Compulsive Behavior, Established Relationship, M/M, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 03:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15698913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/completelyboggled/pseuds/completelyboggled
Summary: Draco shakily exhales, his fingers twitch. He flips the light switch down and up five times.Flick flick flick flick flick.His heart beats faster and he’s beginning to feel unstable.He has to get it right.For Harry.So Harry stays safe.So Harry stays.





	Five, Three, Two

Damn muggle built flats, Draco thinks. 

Damn muggle electricity and damn Harry for always forgetting to turn out the lights before he leaves for the Ministry, he thinks, his gaze locked on the light that’s spilling out of the half bath at the end of the hall.

He knows he shouldn’t go in there. He should just leave and forget about it.

Leave.  
Forget about it.  
Meet Harry. 

But he’s rooted to the spot, unable to turn down the stairs to the floo.

It should be so easy...

He sighs in resigned frustration and walks toward the room he knows he should stay away from.

He closes his eyes, slipping his hand inside the room to flick the light switch down and up five times and off. He moves to retreat when the faucet drips and his step falters.

He pulls out his pocket watch and winces. 

9:28:56...:57...:58...:59...9:29:00.

He doesn’t have time for this.

His thumb brushes the cover closed, tapping it lightly against the latch twice before clicking it fully shut.

 _Drip_. 

He regretfully steps into to room, quickly flipping the light back on. 

Damn this sink, he thinks as he glowers at the wet porcelain. He reaches for the tap, turning the water on and off three times. He waits. 

_Drip_.

 _Wshh wshh wshh_. Off. 

_Drip_.

He shakily exhales, his fingers twitch.

He flips the light switch down and up five times. 

_Flick flick flick flick flick_. Off.

Although it’s not quite right, he turns again to leave, getting a full three steps away before pausing, looking back at the doorway. Heat crawls up the back of his robes, curling out of his collar and licking at his neck. He groans.

His pocket watch reads 9:33:34...:35...:36...:37...:38... 

He’s late for the Ministry meeting.  
He’s kept the Minister waiting.  
His department head waiting.  
Harry waiting. 

But Harry is there and Draco can’t let anything happen to him. He’ll go. He will. He’s just got to get it right first. 

...:58...:59...9:34:00. He taps the watch cover to the closure twice before snapping it shut. 

Alright. 

Again. 

In front of the sink. Light on.

 _Wshh wshh wshh_. 

Breathe. 

It doesn’t feel right in his fingers. It makes them itch.

He looks at the checkered tile backsplash feeling the bone deep unease settling in.

“There are thirteen white tiles on the wall,” he says slowly. “Eleven black. Together there are twenty-four.”

 _Flick flick flick flick flick_. 

Deep breath. 

_Drip_. 

He pulls a shaking hand through his hair, giving it a harsher tug than he needs to. He feels several strands come free in his fingers.

He’s late. 

He can’t leave. 

_Wshh wshh wshh_. 

He looks at himself in the mirror. His lip is troubled by his teeth and his hair is pulled sideways. An irritated sound comes from his throat as he reaches for the comb in his pocket. He lays twenty strokes to either side of his head. 

_Drip_.

 _Wshh wshh wshh_.

 _Flick flick flick flick flick_. 

There are thirteen white tiles.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13.

 _Drip_. 

_Wshh wshh wshh_.

Thirteen white. 

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13.

Eleven black. 

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11.

His heart beats faster and he’s beginning to feel unstable. His head swoops, leaving him dizzy.

He has to get it right.  
For Harry.  
So Harry stays safe.  
So Harry stays.  
So no other Dark Lord comes.  
He’s got to-

 _Drip_. 

“Ugh!”

 _Wshh wshh wshh_. 

_WSHH WSHH WSHH!_

_Flick flick flick flick flick_.

When he shifts his balance, the toe of his shoe crosses the line of grout between floor tiles. With a whimper, he lifts his left foot taps the door frame two times with the outside of his leather oxford.

His breathing grows ragged as his eyes slide over the tiles, counting:

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9- _Shit!_

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 white.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 black.

Twenty-four total. 

Thirteen white! 

Eleven black! 

Twenty-four total!

His pocket watch reads 9:47:14...:15...:16...:17...

“Shit,” he says unsteadily. Sweat has beaded at his temples.

Seventeen minutes late.  
Seventeen minutes and nineteen,  
twenty,  
twenty-one,  
twenty-two...

He dabs the sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief, careful to fold it back into thirds before returning it to his pocket. 

Will Harry be angry? Draco is angry. 

...:57...:58...:59...9:48:00. Two taps, snaps closed.

The outside of his left shoe taps the door frame. 

_Tap tap_.

He catches his reflection in the mirror, his skin flush, his eyes rimmed with frustrated tears.

No.

This is silly.

Nothing will happen, he tells himself, looking out into the hall. He and Harry have talked about it. Nothing will happen to Harry. 

It’s fine. 

Once more perfectly and he’ll go. It will be _fine_.

 _Wshh wshh wshh_. 

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 white.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 black.

Twenty-four total.

 _Tap tap_.

Twenty stokes on the left.

Twenty strokes on the right.

His pocket watch reads 9:52:59...9:53:00. Two taps, closed.

 _Flick flick flick flick flick_. Off.

He takes a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth.

He turns, taking a determined step out of the bathroom before he has the chance to feel swallowed completely. 

 

 

 _Drip_.

***

Harry floos in at thirteen past ten. Draco can hear his boots pounding quickly up the stairs but he can’t make himself move from where he stands in front of the bathroom sink, eyes closed and hot tears streaking his cheeks.

He repeats strengthening solution ingredients like a prayer. 

“One drop salamander blood, powdered griffin claw, arm bone, four crushed snake fangs, sprig of wormwood, ground spring monkshood bloom...”

Draco finally opens his bloodshot, watery eyes, seeing Harry in the mirror, out of breath and startled. Draco chokes around his words but continues, the first three fingers of his right hand turning the taps on and off all the while.

Harry’s face falls and he enters. “No. No, no, _no_. Draco, sweetheart, what’s happened?”

Draco shakes his head. “Pinch of powdered asphodel root, three dried billywig stings.”

“Why are you in here? You never come in here.” Harry steps close, running his palms soothingly over Draco’s biceps.

Draco takes a shuddering breath. “The light was on.”

Harry swears quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Draco’s left foot stretches towards the door frame, tapping twice. He grimaces.

“Hey, whatever it is, whatever’s going through your head, you can think it but you don’t need to listen to it, yeah?” Harry says, his eyes pleading and earnest. “Do you need a draught?”

Draco shakes his head. It’s been weeks since he’s needed a draught to calm down. All the progress he’s made. He’ll be damned if he ruins it now.

Harry lifts Draco’s left hand, giving it a kiss before placing it against his chest. 

“Breathe,” Harry says, taking large breaths to guide Draco. After a moment, he takes his wand, murmuring a spell he picked up during one of Granger’s prenatal appointments, and suddenly, the room is filled with the steady sound of Harry’s heartbeat. 

Draco’s index finger automatically begins tapping one-two, one-two against Harry’s chest. 

“See?” Harry says. “I’m ok. And I’ll be ok when you turn that water off.” He reaches to ease Draco’s hand off the tap.

Draco makes a sound of distress and Harry removes his hand placatingly. 

“Ok. I’ll let you.”

Draco slowly let’s his hand slide from the faucet. He focuses on the warbling heartbeat around him, tapping his finger along.

 _One-two, one-two_. 

“What’s brought this on? I haven’t heard you reciting potions ingredients in _months_.” Harry’s eyebrows are drawn in concern.

Draco blinks quickly, looking away. He hates being seen like this. 

“Hey,” Harry guides his face back. “Please don’t be embarrassed. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. We’ve talked about that. I just want to understand.”

Draco sniffs. “I have to keep you safe.”

“I am safe.”

Draco bites his lip. He knows he’s being ridiculous, but that doesn’t stop the thoughts. He doesn’t want to tell Harry. He doesn’t want to admit. But it’s better out. If he doesn’t address it, chances are the thoughts will just fester in his mind until he snaps completely.

His focus drifts over Harry’s shoulder, unable to meet his focused gaze.

“I have to keep you.”

“You have to-? Draco what are you talking about?” 

Draco’s lip trembles as his fingers flutter along Harry’s chest. “Just tell me if you’re leaving me,” he whispers.

“Draco!” Harry startles.

“I wouldn’t blame you. With-with all of this,” he gestures to the room. The tiles and the taps and the lights. “You’ve been gone a lot lately. And you’ve been stressed. Secretive.”

“Draco,” Harry says again, shaking his head. But then his lips tilt in a warm, kind smile. “You’re right. I have been gone and stressed and secretive lately. But I’m not _leaving_ you.”

The heartbeat quickens.

Draco’s eyes slide over to the white tiles.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7-

“Ok, you know, this wasn’t exactly what I had planned, but that’s fine.”

The heartbeat surges and Draco’s anxiety spikes with it.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8-

“Draco?”

Draco’s gaze shifts back to Harry, and then to the small velvet box he’s pulled from his robe pocket. Draco freezes, his right hand halfway back to the taps.

“I’ve been gone because I’ve been visiting your mother for her blessing. And Pansy and Greg and Blaise. There’s only one secret I’ve been keeping from you.”

The thoughts, the numbers, everything, sieve from Draco’s mind until there’s nothing but the deafening onetwoonetwoonetwoonetwo.

“I’m not leaving,” Harry says again. “I’m staying. Forever, if you’ll have me.”

 _Onetwoonetwoonetwoonetwoonetwo_.

“What?” Draco manages, wondering if he’s seeing things properly. “A-are you asking me...?”

“Not right here and now, no. I know you’d never let me live it down if I didn’t propose in some ridiculously over the top, traditional way,” Harry says fondly, wiping the stray tears from Draco’s face. “But I need you to know I’m here for the long haul. Better or worse.”

Draco’s own heart pounds as fast as Harry’s. He can’t think of what to say. He has too many thoughts- the good kind- and none of them are completely formed. So he leans in instead, meeting Harry in a kiss.

It’s warm and it’s soft and it’s relief.

Harry fumbles his wand, silencing the charm around them. 

_Flick_.

Draco opens his eyes, realising Harry has led him from the bathroom and is slowly walking them down the darkened hall. He gives Draco a chaste kiss with every step.

“You’re staying?” Draco asks, his lips still pressed against Harry’s. 

“Staying,” Harry affirms. He pulls back and cups Draco’s cheek. His eyes hold more comfort and reassurance than any ritual ever could.

“I’m sorry about the meeting,” Draco mumbles.

“Don’t worry about the meeting. I rescheduled for next week. They can wait.” He drops his hand to Draco’s, lacing their fingers. “Come on. I’ll make us some tea, yeah?”

Draco glances back down the dark hall. There’s a heavy feeling of discomfort resting between his shoulder blades as he wonders if Harry turned the light off correctly. 

He blows out a deep breath.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s have some tea,” he says and turns, following Harry down the stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> So. I first started writing this because I wanted to play with writing a story that had some kind of rhythm. I wanted something that got fast and chaotic as it went along. I’m hoping I was at least a little successful, but I’m eager to hear your thoughts on it!
> 
> As far as OCD goes, I'm hoping this story isn’t in any way offensive. That isn’t my intention at all. I don’t have a lot of experience with OCD. I do have experience with anxiety that I tried to draw from while filling in some gaps with research.
> 
> I’d have liked to focus more on the obsessive thoughts that drove Draco’s behavior, but for the sake of the story’s rhythm, I stuck mainly to the compulsive actions.
> 
> Thanks for taking the time to read! I’d love to know what you think!
> 
> All characters belong to JK Rowling.


End file.
